Birds of a Feather

They returned today
Slinking in their new skins,
Shiny,
Dancing a mating ritual.

Confident, proud
Batting an alluring eye,
Gushing and puffing
Adventures near and far

As if tales and tokens
Could mask their uncertainty,
As if cool could hide hopes
of higher ranking

A pecking order of
Verbal highbrow banter,
Rainbowed lip gloss,
And slouched shoulders

A collection of humanity
Babes to golden agers,
Vying for prominence
Or to remain shadowed

Quick to dismiss deviation
As an unspoken definition of

The collective unique.

The Weight of Water

This was in response to the boys who watched a man drown, while ridiculing him

 

“Your deeds are your monuments” – inscription on Egyptian tomb

In a flicker,
Across the boundaries of time,
I read in granite
“Your deeds are your monuments.”

Throughout this life and the next,
Carry your monument
Of inaction and ridicule,
Feel its density.

Feel its weight,
Like the weight of water,

Pulling a man below
The surface of your conscience.

 

A Farewell

Farewell, my Faina
Your delicate presence,
Brief, slight appearance,
Dissipates as dandelion puffs.

Farewell to my
Chantilly lace bride,
Joyous twinkling eyes,
A hope born of Faith.

Farewell to Russian spyskies,
And the shake-shake-shake,
Potato peelers and holidays,
Alight from warmth within.

Farewell to men of gingerbread,
Where will they live now?
Or will they lie,
Unshapen, lifeless in the bowl.

Farewell to an adventure,
A girl’s junket,
Stringing beads,
Rolling pins and pies.

Farewell sweet nesting,
Downton Abbey marathons,
Reading, bundled,
Into unconsciousness.

Farewell my unborn babe,
Tendrils of you and mine,
A countenance divine,
Held for another hour.

Farewell to a hummingbird’s
Whisper of laughter and lightness,
No uncertainty and hesitation,
Now decisive with direction.

Farewell book well read,
Book well worn,
Book well loved.
Last page, The End.

Farewell my Snow Princess,
In search of Forsythia,
Who must,
Crack a new binding,